Touching Minds
by NeroSparda024
Summary: The mind is a dangerous thing to tamper with. In the magical world though... mental magic is not uncommon. What if it's taken further? What if it's taken in a bit of a darker... more sexual way? Starts Goblet of Fire. PWP.
1. Ancestral Discovery

**This fic is basically porn with plot. Though, it may just end up being plot with porn. I still have no real idea which way I am going to swing it. May just be equal plot with porn, who knows. Definitely going to be a lot of sex though. Powerful Harry, almost OP Harry is a definite. Will almost certainly become OP like Dumbledore and Voldemort later on though. Practically Godlike at that point since there is probably no one that could stop either of those two in their prime besides the other and a few rare people.**

**Ancestral Discovery**

"_The third champion has been chosen! Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts!" Everyone cheered for the Hufflepuff student, the Hufflepuffs being the loudest of course. Harry clapped politely, not really knowing the person all that well._

"_Now then, since that is over, let us commenc-" The fire in the Goblet lit up once more, silencing everyone. A single piece of paper came out, and Harry just knew that things weren't going to be so good._

* * *

"_How did his name appear in the Goblet?! I thought you said the tournament would be safe from cheating Dumbledore!" Karkaroff looked just as angry as everyone else in the room. Harry just stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do._

"_Calm yourself Karkaroff, I already questioned the boy. Harry claims that he didn't put his name into the Goblet, and whether it is true or not, he must participate in the events." Dumbledore looked just as calm as ever, a switch from the frantic questions he had bombarded Harry with just moments prior._

"_I think this is quite unfair. You have two champions now, which means that you have a better chance of earning prestige!" The half giant Maxime looked quite intimidating honestly. He decided to join the conversation._

"_Cedric was chosen as the Hogwarts Champion. I can just represent myself." He was a bit embarrassed to admit that his voice had cracked a bit towards the end there._

_The heated gazes on him made his heart beat fast. It felt like fire was coursing through his veins from the embarrassment and shame. He _always _has to do something that made him the center of attention, even when it wasn't caused by him._

"_While a nice idea, it does not change that fact that you are affiliated with Hogwarts, and thus you represent them, even if distantly." The half giant looked like she was calming down, which was good for Harry's anxiousness._

"_Bah! You're all fools! Can't you see! The boy didn't enter himself! People have been trying to kill him since he was a wee lad. This is obviously an attempt at his life!" Moody seemed twitchy, his eye rolling all around._

_He was thankful for the support, but knew it wouldn't help. The opposite really. The moment anyway ever tried to help him, everything usually got all the worse for it._

"_Hah. I'm _sure _that's what's going on. Not like Potter has been doing stupid stunts since his first year to get attention. The boy clearly entered himself." The sneer that Snape sent him actually helped calm him down amidst the renewed stares._

_That sneer was like a lifeline. A familiar scorn that no longer really bothered him too much. At least Snape's hatred was familiar. Something he was used to._

"_Are you trying to claim that Harry could have bypassed Dumbledore's age line?! Don't be ridiculou-" As his heat rate calmed down, the ensuing argument faded from his attention. He just wanted a halloween where nothing happened._

* * *

**One Day Later**

"I just don't know what to do Sirius. This tournament has a reputation for killing its participants off." He sat on his bed, making sure that the curtains around it were spelled silent.

He fidgeted on his bed, not feeling all that well. Though it had only been a day, it had already been rough. Ron had called him out for always stealing the attention, whether it was on purpose or not.

The red head was a super loyal person most of the time. Not when his jealousy got the best of him though. Hermione was the surprise though. He really hadn't expected her not to support him.

She was a neutral figure at the moment, not wanting to anger either him or Ron by siding with one or the other. Just the fact that she had decided to be neutral was enough to anger him though.

He had been through a lot with his friends, but they also put him through almost as much stuff as they got him out of. He vaguely wondered whether he was best off without either of them when Sirius called out from the mirror.

"Don't worry kiddo. I heard all about it from Dumbledore yesterday when he floo called me. I already sent some things over regarding it. Getting books about the rules and so on wasn't very hard.

Make sure you really study up though Harry. You have to use every single moment you can to get better. I skimmed through the rules already. You don't have to attend classes anymore, so I suggest you don't.

You aren't allowed to use dark magic over class 2, but since you don't really know any dark magic, I doubt that matters. You aren't allowed to carry anything on your person besides your wand, nor can you wear any special clothing.

You can take supplementary potions, but nothing over grade 1. Killing other competitors is allowed though, legal too. Just no unforgivables if you're gonna do it though, you'll still get sent to Azkaban for doing that."

He deadpanned at Sirius' cheeky statement, inwardly analyzing everything he said. He indeed did not know what classes dark magic were separated into. He knew about the grades of potions though. Basically, it meant the strength and potency of the potion.

Any potion would be allowed as long as it was at its weakest strength. Definitely useful to know. Couldn't use any against opponents though, since you they were meant to be taken by you, not others.

"Are those the most important rules?" He felt his hand itch at the thought of his fellow Champions trying to take him out. He would have to learn more combat spells.

"Nope. The most important rule is the one that will benefit you the most!" Sirius grinned at him, not bothering to say what it was at all. He could already feel his eye twitching.

"And that rule is…?"

"The reason you have to be 17 to enter the tournament is because you have to be at an age of majority, which is 17 in the wizarding world. Entering this tournament means you have to be legally emancipated.

Because the Goblet is one of the greatest magical artifacts, it's word is law in this case. The rules state you have to be emancipated to enter, and because you were entered despite not being emancipated, you now are.

This means you have a lot more freedom now. You can take your place as the Head of House Potter, though you can't claim your title as Marquess just yet, nor your title as a Lord of the Wizengamot.

Since you are now legally an adult, you can go get the trace on your wand removed, meaning you can do magic outside of high populated areas without getting caught. It also means that Dumbledore is no longer your legal guardian, but I would let him act that way anyway."

Sirius was still staunchly loyal to Dumbledore, but to be fair, he had quite a bit of faith in the older wizard himself. Not regarding to his individual circumstance, since Dumbledore hadn't done that good by him, but in general.

"Does that mean I can enter the actual Potter treasury now, instead of the trust vault?" The trust vault itself held a thousand galleons a year inside it, used for Hogwarts and whatever else he needed.

He had almost never spent all of it, most of the time not even getting halfway there. The main vault held everything inside of it though. Everything that wasn't inside of homes or anything like that.

"Yeah, you can. Unfortunately, you won't find much involving spells and the like in there. Almost all of it had been inside of the Potter Manor before it was burned down. James always felt bad that he let his parents home get destroyed not long after they died to disease.

There are still a few books in there, but most of them are journals or story books that were collected over time. All the Potter property was sold by James besides his home, but that was destroyed. You're pretty much left with the money and a smattering of books."

"Why did he sell the property? Was Voldemort going after it or something?" It would make sense to cut your losses in that case.

"No, the Order needed money desperately during that time. James refused to use the money in the Potter vault, not wanting to disrespect his ancestors by using up all the money they fought hard to get. He ended up using all of his and Lily's money though, as well as the properties.

He was pretty beat up about selling them, but figured that it was better than taking money out a vault that had money poured into it for hundreds or thousands of years. Property comes and goes you know?"

Sirius sounded wistful, clearly remembering the days of the war. He was thankful to hear that he wouldn't have to worry about going broke too soon. He didn't want to rush to find a job.

"The Order was what you guys called yourselves when you fought Voldemort right?"

"Yep! The Order of the Phoenix." The smug grin on his face looked ridiculous, enough to get a laugh from Harry,

"How much money did you guys need in that fight?" It sounded like everyone ended up pouring everything into it, and they had been losing!

"Everything it could get. I went broke, since I couldn't access anything but my own vaults. Numerous people went broke, while the Death Eaters thrived. They had so much money that it didn't matter how much they spent.

It was hard honestly, watching as people starved themselves to conserve money. I never really realised how much it could mean until that time. Ya always got to treat it carefully." Sirius nodded slowly with his eyes closed, an exaggerated wisdom permeating the air around him.

They talked for a little bit longer, but Harry was beginning to get hungry. They ended the mirror call after they talked about what was needed to set him up. He needed to go to the bank and prove his authenticity as Head of House.

'Something to do after food, I guess.'

* * *

"Next!" The high pitched, yet gravelly, voice bellowed out into the confines of the room. Harry felt his glasses slide down his nose from the nervous sweat covering his face.

He tried to confidently walk out to the desk, but ended up looking pretty awkward. Thankfully, his long hair covered up his scar enough to hide his identity.

"State your reason." The cold eyes of the Goblin pierced through him, making his fingers twitch.

He had stepped into the line concerning matters of the House. He wasn't really sure what he needed to say, but knew he needed to be quick. He had snuck out of Hogwarts after all.

"I'm here concerning my position as Head of my House. I desire to take that position up." He spoke as clearly as he could, no matter how awkward it might sound. He really had to work on his confidence around people.

"Hn. Step to the left." He did as told, not complaining about the vague and unhelpful words. He didn't really feel confident to say anything while in front of a huge line.

He ended up waiting almost 20 minutes awkwardly standing to the left of the table before another Goblin fetched him. He didn't say any words, merely waved his hand to indicate that he should follow him.

After some confusing twists and turns, they made it to a room. It looked tiny on the outside, but huge on the inside. It was adorned with several baubles and gold coins, showing off wealth.

"Ngh. Take a seat wizard." The voice of the Goblin now sitting across from his was deep and gruff. Intimidating. He wordlessly took his seat.

"Now. You wish to take the position as the Head of your House. Just know that since you are not being referred by an existing Head, you will have to take a small blood test, as well as a binding ritual. These will cost a galleon together."

The Goblin paused, making sure that Harry understood and was okay with all of that. He didn't really know what all of that meant, but didn't really care to say anything about it.

"Hm, state the House that you wish to claim Headship for." He stood up and wandered over to a box, with the words, 'Wizard Houses', written with bold letters.

"House Potter." The Goblin paused, looking back at him. He felt the sweat on his forehead increase under that penetrating stare. He straightened his back this time though, determined to get used to figures like this.

"The main family of the Potter House consists of Harry James Potter. A branch member can't claim ownership to the Head of House until his death. Harry James Potter is 14 years old, and thus can't claim ownership."

Harry shifted his hair away from his scar, making sure he knew he wasn't a 'branch member', whatever that was.

"Again, Harry James Potter is not at the age of majority, and thus cannot claim ownership of his House." The Goblin almost seemed irritated, but his face was blank.

"I was just included in the Triwizard tournament yesterday, which means I got emancipated." He kept his words short, focusing on not stuttering.

"Hmm." He said nothing, moving over to another box, labelled 'Majority'. He stuck his hand in and came out with a piece of rolled up parchment. He looked at it briefly before nodding. He then moved back over to the box of houses.

He stuck both hands inside of the box, and came up with a bowl, parchment paper and a knife. He quickly made his way back over to the desk, assorting his items neatly.

"Now, I'll explain these items quickly. This parchment is your families 'line'. By testing your blood against it, we can ensure that you are who you say you are. We also ensure that your are actually eligible to take up your position as Head of House.

The bowl is where the ring that demotes your leadership lies. Once you die or give up your headship, the ring will return back into the bowl. The ring doesn't have any special magic besides that. It is almost not even real, it's existence merely to prove your position.

The knife is a special knife, designed to heal and restore whatever blood is lost from the cuts. We will be needing quite a bit of blood after all."

He didn't seem patient after all of that, and quickly held out his hand. Harry hesitantly placed his arm in it, wincing as he was wrenched over the paper. The Goblin quickly took his knife, slashing his wrist before he could react.

He flinched for but a second, the pain fading just as quickly as it came. The blood dripped over the paper, glowing for a moment. It quickly soaked into the paper, transforming into his name, the color of gold.

"Hm, you are who you say you are, and the gold color means that you are eligible for headship."

He quickly moved the paper away, still holding his arm in a vice grip. He slid the bowl under his arm and made a much larger gash this time. Harry clenched his fist and grit his teeth. The cut was much more intense than the other one.

It lasted several moments before the cut closed and he felt okay again. He looked down at the bowl and saw it filled to the brim with his blood. It made him feel slightly sick honestly.

"Put your left hand in the bowl." The Goblin finally let go of his arm, content to sit and watch now. With a bit of hesitance, Harry did as he demanded.

He watched as his fingers slowly submerged inside of his own life giving liquid. It was warm for a moment, but once he got his wrist in, it went ice cold. The blood glew and shifted color from its dark red.

It turned black and white, before it slowly started to drain. It swirled around his hands, making him shiver at the cold caresses. It leisurely crawled around his fingers, condensing into a single form.

White with black runic designs all around it, sitting prettily on his ring finger. It felt cold, like a constant reminder of responsibility.

"There. You're now the Head of your House. Congratulations." The words were dry, but they didn't ring hollowly. Warmth pooled in his belly, ready to represent his House in its whole.

* * *

It felt damp and cold as he stepped inside the main Potter vault. It contrasted sharply to the intense heat that spread through his body, his excitement untameable.

He had gone through paperwork after paperwork. Making sure he knew all the holdings of the Potter House. He wasn't surprised that there were no other Potters alive, though Potter blood was spread through other lines as well, merely incredibly diluted.

He had about 21 million pounds if he included artifacts and objects in the vault, but only had about 11 million in pure coins. It hadn't sounded so impressive when it was said, as he didn't really know the conversion rate, but the piles looked amazing.

Looking at the gold, silver and copper gleaming every way he looked gave him a heady feeling. He wasn't the richest family, not even close. He was rich though. Veerrryyy rich.

There were paintings, goblets, vases, pottery, swords, etc. all laying around amidst piles of gold. The lack of books disappointed him slightly, but he had remembered Sirius claiming most of them were destroyed, so it was lessened.

That didn't mean he found none however. There were a few books here and there, some buried under gold. He had made a habit of shifting all the gold around to check for things underneath, which paid off several times.

He had found gems, weapons, books and even wands. The books were simply journals, mixed with stories. Some of the journals portrayed several interesting spells, but they all seemed wrong compared to what he had been taught. Some of them he just couldn't even read.

He had been shifting his 36th pile of gold around, when he spotted dark leather. He quickly shoveled the gold away from what looked like a huge journal, displaying a deep black, flawless leather cover.

He lifted the book up, feeling a jolt as his fingers touched it. He tensed in panic as bright blue runic looking designs exploded into existence, moving all around the book and his arms.

"Gah! What the bloody hell!" He frantically shook his hand, desperate to get the possibly dangerous book away from him, to no avail.

Eventually, he simply stopped struggling, noting that nothing was happening to him. He felt his head briefly itch, before deciding to take a closer look at the journal. It was large, owing to the fact that it was not one, but two journals.

They looked like they were magically fused together, but they were seperated by leather coverings, indicating where one ended and the other began. He watched as the blue runes faded, slowly receding into the journal.

'A closer look couldn't hurt right?' He slowly reached for the leather covering, no longer feeling the slight static as he touched it. He tentatively flipped it open, his pale skinny hands trembling as he did so.

_Hello there, descendent of mine._

_If you are not a descendent of mine, I must congratulate you for getting through the runes and enchantments without destroying the journal. My 71st and 34th wife were incredibly good at those. _

_Well, forgoing the possibility of this being stolen, welcome. My name is Brinley Potter. This book is a legacy of my magic. The magic of the first potter. Not the magic associated with pottery, no. That is located within the grimoire._

_This is a more special type of magic. You may have noticed the sheer number of my wives. It extends well beyond 71, let me tell you that. My first wife is my only wife eligible to pass on my heirs however, for the others are merely holes I use to satisfy myself._

_My magic is sex. Everything pertaining to sex. I am not talented, nor am I magically powerful. I am addicted to sex though, and addiction can make even the most pathetic man a master._

_My magic focuses mostly around mental magic. There are two known mental magics to my knowledge, though there may be more in the time you are reading this. This may not even be special by the time you are reading this._

_Offensive and defensive mental magic. One used to invade and violate another's mind, one used to defend and better your own. I was never good at either, only ever succeeding at the basics. The basics, however, were far more valuable than I suspect anyone ever imagined. _

_I was born to an old magic family. Their name still burns in my heart even now, so I shall not even dare write it. I was born strong, handsome. I had amazing genes, wealth beyond mosts imagination._

_I was weak magically though. Incredibly weak. With Merlin up and coming, born from a magical beast and a muggle woman, I was a disgrace. To not even measure up to a halfblood, no matter how impossibly strong he was made me a blight in their eyes._

_On my 15th year of life, I set out. I didn't desire to live under the disapproving stares, the controlling hands. Telling me what to do, where to go, what to be. I desired _freedom_. And I got it._

_It was hell, the first few years. I knew not how to survive all alone, nothing but the clothes on my back, a bow and arrow and faulty magic. Eventually though, I settled into life as a person who made pottery. _

_It was how I came up with my last name actually. My haste to shed my old one for a new one causing me to be a bit hasty in making it up. It's not the worst name I suppose, but nothing I wanted to be stuck with honestly._

_I was a potter though. My wares were made magically, getting better and better as I aged. My love life suffered though. No one wanted to be with me. I had no money, all of it spent on making more pottery in an endless cycle of mediocrity. _

_I had stolen a few books from my old house before I left though. Amongst these books, came my divine savior. _Mental Magic_. It doesn't sound so impressive at first glance, but reading through it quickly dissuades that thought. _

_The ability to build defenses in your mind, control your emotion, gain better memory. Feel others emotions, read surface thoughts. These were all merely the basics. I didn't have any books on anything higher at the time, thankfully._

_I stumbled my way through learning them both, taking years just to do it. I made a mistake though. While reading someone's emotions, I accidently pulled my magic inwards at the same time. _

_That was my first encounter with manipulating emotions and feelings. I found that examine others emotions, even very tinily, manipulate them. I imagined the emotions and feelings as campfires. _

_I found I could take logs from other emotions and put them into another. It took me years to figure out how to create logs, but the former was enough._

_I slowly learned how to seduce women. I would spend months manipulating them. Dulling their sense to everything but me. Making them addicting to the thought, the sound, the taste of me._

_I only struggled to improve myself upon meeting with a woman that had mental shields. Thankfully, the low level mental magics I could wield were not strong enough to trigger her defenses._

_She was beautiful though and I wanted her. She was my first actual wife, and the eventual bearer of my line. I crafted my art to perfection, learning countless sex magic along the way. There was none I could not seduce. _

_None I could not tempt into taking a bite. The rest of my sex magic was what forever trapped them in my net. Young, old, single, married, nobles. It mattered not. Not even Guinevere herself was exempt from this. _

_Fucking the wife of Arthur Pendragon was a massive achievement before Lancelot did it as well. It's not fun when someone else can do something you thought only you could._

It went on and on and on about his life and his achievements. Halfway through flipping the pages was where he found all the magic though. He hesitated to continue reading thoroughly, but recalled that there was a Goblin waiting outside. He decided to flip to the second journal.

Interestingly enough, once he opened it, he came upon warning. It was filled with frantic writing, looking almost angry.

_Warning! Do not let relatives or anyone else read these books unless you are dead!_

_This is an addon to my original journal. Nothing is changed in there, but I felt this had to be stressed in case you were like me. The components of the first journal are what will most likely get you into trouble, but the second one may as well._

_I felt bad for my son, seeing myself in him. I then created my journal and showed him both. The end result was my own son stealing my wife from me and impregnating his sisters. I advise you strongly to never show this to another person unless you are on the verge of death._

_Killing your own children and wife is not something I wish anyone would do. I hope these journals and this warning will help you. I am going to go kill myself now._

He stared at the morbid words for a few moments, not really sure if he should continue anymore. The act of manipulating someone's emotions and feelings to make them yours kind of unsettled him. Something inside of him made him turn the page anyway.

_Hello there, descendent of mine._

_See what I did there? Anyway, you might not even be my descendent, but you sort of will I guess. I do have a brother and sister after all, as well as a ton of half siblings. Following my ancestor up there, my name is Lyre Potter. _

_Most people in my childhood had different names for me though. Runt. Bones. Shorty. All of that and more was what drove me to my ultimate goal. I was the runt of the litter. Not magically like our ancestor, but physically. _

_My magic was strong, but my body was weak. It held me back. Held me back from the recognition I rightfully deserved. Becoming a grandmaster in potions as well as master in transfiguration is something to be lauded. _

_Instead, I was ignored. Twenty two years old, achieving things that took others to their hundreds. Yet I was weak. Short, barely reaching the chest of others. Skinny, containing no meat on my bones, no matter how much I ate. _

_Most of all was my penis. Potters were renowned as virile, people shielding their wives and husbands as they walked past. Not me though. Once the first woman I had laid with had talked to other people, I was ruined._

_Thus, I set out to use my skills to change this. The determination was heralded from the very journal I grafted this one onto. I did not use any of the magics detailed in the book, besides some of the sex magic ones. _

_Instead, I sought to make my body something irresistible. Not the mind, but the body. In that pursuit, I turned towards the Greeks. Their Gods were renowned for their fertility, for their stamina, their sex drive, their bodies. _

_They were everything I desired to be. I cared not for magic, since it had yielded nothing for me alone. I carved the images into my mind. Powerful, lithe, defined. Tall, broad, encompassing. Tales of their orgies, the pleasure they granted to people drove me._

_Combining my skills in potions with transfiguration, I created a way to gain the perfect body. I further refined it as life went on, settling down with a single woman after a few years of fun. _

_Four months. That was all it would take once I created its final form. A potion, images, and runes pertaining to transfiguration. Since I am mostly making this for my son, who is not good in those subjects, this will be childsplay._

_You merely make the potion, drop the images that this book contains, and past the paper all around it. With four months of intensive exercise and a ton of food, which will be listed, you will gain the body of a god. _

_Alongside this, comes the fertility. The fertility part of this is one of the most important. It is incredibly hard for seed to catch in the belly of a witch. This potion will tear that image asunder, so be careful._

_Even a single sliver of seed will impregnate your partner. My wife and our 31 children will attest to that. Combined with the mental manipulation, I doubt anything will be able to resist you. _

The journal contained incredibly detailed info about specific exercises, as well as the results of the potion. He didn't want to go any farther at the moment, not really sure what he thought about what he had read.

He was not well physically. He was short, skinny and malnourished, his eyesight was shit. He was weak and slow when it came to physical activities. He was magically powerful, but he always felt awkward when people could see his body.

He thanked his large clothes for hiding that most of the time, before getting anxious about someone seeing him. He hated living that way and the thought of gaining the body of a god in just four months was tempting.

The first journal though… he wasn't sure how to feel about it. It was _dark_, darker than most things he had read about. Murder and rape were one thing, but mentally manipulating someone, shaping their minds to your whim. That was like super rape or something.

And yet the thought was appealing. Amidst the constant abandonments that he suffered from people that claimed to adore him, from friends, the thought didn't unnerve him all that much.

He walked towards the exit of the vault, ready to leave. He made sure the journal was secured in his bag first though.

* * *

_Powdered Root of Asphodel_

_Powdered Graphorn Horn_

_Powdered Horn of Bicorn_

_Bundimun Secretion_

_Leaping Toadstool_

_Chizpurfle Fang_

_Dittany_

_Dragon Blood_

Harry sat in his bed, curtains drawn. The list of potion ingredients wasn't the longest he had seen, but he knew they could be quite expensive to buy. The amounts and way to prepare them were all listed on the paper, so he made a note to place an order for pickup.

He would have to send Hedwig out to inform the shopkeepers to prepare his needed ingredients. He was sure he could start working on the potion in a day. It would only take 3 days to make, which meant he would have 20 days before the first task to begin training up his body.

'In the meantime though…' Harry tried to resist for a moment, his dark eyebrows scrunching up in shame, but failed. He shakily raked his bony fingers through his dark messy hair, steeling himself.

He turned the book back towards the first journal, and began learning its secrets. Mental magics that could let him control his emotions sounded like a must. Just because he was learning that didn't mean he had to learn the rest. Maybe.

* * *

**Three Days Later**

"Two swirls counterclockwise, three dips and done!" He had snuck out bright and early three days prior, eager to start on his potion. His other studies were getting along just as good as the potion was.

He had been weirded out by all the pictures he had to put in at first. It had been cool watching as they regrew when he ripped them, but the pictures themselves were slightly odd. There was dozens of diagrams for every muscle.

Diagrams of eyes, of hair, everything. Hundreds for the penis and balls though. He knew the potion wouldn't change how he looked, but merely enhance it to the greatest degree as shown in the diagrams, but it was slightly unnerving to see everything that would be happening to him in such description.

He was happy that it was so thorough at the same time though. He didn't want something to go wrong after all. He flicked off the burner under his cauldron, making sure not to shake the potion.

He had spent three days mixing in the pictures, forcing them to dissolve in the concoction inside the cauldron. He wasn't going to fuck it up now. Especially since he had earned the ire of Mcgonagall by skipping classes to do it.

'Meh. This is so much more important than class. Besides, I'm a champion. I don't have to go to class." He let a grin take over his face. His excitement at finally completing his potion and the glee of not having classes was overwhelming.

He poured the required dosage into a test tube, the shaking of his hands making the task much harder than it had to be. He immediately downed the thick brown liquid, uncaring about the taste.

It was horrible and burned on the way down, but nothing could quench his joy. He quickly got rid of the excess potion, making sure to dilute it with water before letting it drain so no one else could drink it.

It was a fast acting potion, meant to take action in almost no amount of time. The amount he would have to eat until it was complete was ridiculous, consisting of 9 meals a day. Thankfully, he had the kitchens or he would be fucked.

He had already talked to Dobby about his needs. The little elf had been so happy at being able to feed him 9 times a day that Harry couldn't even feel guilty for giving him so much more work on top of everything he already did.

Speaking of food… he was already feeling a bit of pain gnawing at his insides.

* * *

_The mastery of the basic defensive mental arts are not completely necessary. I have perfected my craft, creating several spells to help further it along. One is rather simply, helping link your physical touch to your mind. _

_Successfully achieving the same mistake I did is almost impossible, especially if you are purposefully trying. Thankfully for you, the spell I created can help you learn it._

_The more you touch a person, the better access you will have to their minds. Enough physical contact, and you can bring their emotions, feelings, eventually even their thoughts into your own mind for you to manipulate. _

_You'll get the hang of doing it without physical contact quickly though, negating the need for the spell. Quite useful too, since the spell only lasts about 10 minutes every time it is cast. My skill in magic is not great enough to go beyond that. _

_Small glances are enough. They do not dissipate after time, they build up. You may begin feeling what they feel if you concentrate on them, eventually understanding their thoughts even while they are far away, whenever you want._

_All it takes is one simple touch to begin. The rest will follow in time. Patience is key._

Harry looked down at his fingers, wondering how a spell and touch could practically hand you someone's mind. The danger of magic never seemed clearer to Harry, yet it only excited him.

"Just a little bit couldn't hurt right?"


	2. Snatch and Grab

**What's up guys. I'm gonna be busy these next few weeks so my posting may be a little erratic. I do like getting constructive criticism, so I don't mind you saying something you felt was off, but I'm not always going to agree or change it. In the books, until he cut his hair, Harry could walk through Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade without notice as long as he had his scar covered. It wasn't until after fourth year that people really began to pay attention to where he was and what he was doing as they ran a smear campaign against him. I also never stated that he sold his ancestral house, I said it was destroyed. The properties were farmlands, potion ingredient farms, etc.. Still terrible to sell off, pretty much equally to the money. But during war when things like property could get destroyed while money in a vault can't, it's a better tradeoff to sell those things and keep one. Not the best decision, but the smart one.**

* * *

**Snatch And Grab**

**Two Days Later**

"Fifteen… Sixteen… Seventeen… Eighteen… Nineteen… Twenty!" Harry let himself crash down, waiting for the burning sensation in his arms to fade.

He laid down in an unused classroom, the password thankfully still being the same as the one displayed on the map. It was on the 6th floor, making it an annoyance to get to, but it was away from other people.

Running inside of it was a bit of a bother, but moving the chairs towards the middle made it a viable option. It was nice to be alone, especially with all the hate he had been getting recently. Being glared at by everyone was something he had experienced before, but it had been fear last time.

Anger was something he wasn't used to in large crowds of people. He never thought he would even think it before, but fear was a lot better than anger. No one had jeered at him when they were afraid of him, nor had they sneered.

He shook his head as he felt his muscles settle into dead weight, completely tired from his exercise. It was a bit unnerving that they wouldn't answer his calls as swiftly as he would like, but nothing too bad.

He carefully walked over to the wall and sat against it. He did the same thing he had been doing for hours every day since he began practicing the mental arts. He closed his eyes, grabbed his wand and focused his magic inwards.

It was an odd way of doing it, but the book had detailed it as a little shortcut to learning. It usually took months, or years if you were his ancestor, to gain stable ground in your mind. Sending your magic into your wand and pushing it back inside towards your mind with force was a risky way of doing it.

You sacrificed all the control you would usually have acquired in those months of meditating and connecting your mind and magic. People began with an understanding of their emotions and self when doing it the proper way, whereas you had to build it up yourself with the shortcut.

Entering a trance, he was transported to a world of darkness. Not in the sense of evil, but simply lack of light. That was the other side effect. His inner world was not illuminated at all, making it harder on him to focus.

He had spent the last two days building his 'planet'. He had begun by conjuring little specks of dirt, knowing he needed a foundation. It didn't need to be big since he could expand it, but it needed to exist.

He had been getting better as time went on, but even now he could only conjure little clumps. He barely had a platform to stand on, let alone build a bonfire like his ancestor was instructing him too.

'One clump, two clump…' He felt like dozing off as he conjured a clump a minute, barely making any progress as time passed.

After a few hours, he finally reached the next level of conjuring. It would make everything so much easier.

'Hell yes! Two clumps per minute now baby!' He grinned sadly, his attempt to cheer himself up not working at all.

He did have enough for the main attraction though. The bonfire. It wouldn't do anything yet, but it would be the focal point for controlling his emotions until he could do it with ease.

He focused on a feeling of nothingness, like the cold void inside his stomach he got when he was so sad that he couldn't feel anything, and created with it. He slowly conjured logs, inch by inch.

They shone a deep blue, somehow sucking the darkness around him inside of it, making it even darker if that was possible. He spent minute after minute, struggling to ensure it would be a proper emotion dump.

He got maybe a tenth of the way through it went he felt a tug on his body. Allowing himself to get pulled back out of his mind, he braced himself for the incoming pain.

The first thing he noticed when he left his mind was the way his body was locking up, cramping. Then came the itching of his insides. The stretching of skin, making his body feel tight. The ravenous hunger clawing at his stomach.

He had spent too long in his mind and his body took the chance to continue growing. It usually happened when he was asleep, but happened when he was lost in his mind for too long. It lacked the heat of basilisk venom though, so he would survive it.

"Great Master Harry Potters Sir! Dobby brings food! Yes he does! Great Master Harry Potters missed 3 meals! Great Master must be starving!" Dobby's huge eyes stared excitedly into his own.

He had been hesitant to include Dobby at first, knowing how overzealous he could be, but he didn't regret it. It was nice having someone so excited just to _serve _him. He could see why people got addicted to it.

"Thank you for waking me Dobby. I must have dozed off while practicing some magic." He winced as he waited for his bones to settle, never really getting used to the feelings of growing pain.

"Of course! Great Master Harry Potters is training very hard to win tournament! Incredible! Incredible!" Dobby danced around a bit, before popping off.

Harry chuckled, leaning back against the wall as his body calmed down. His hunger was still prominent, but he could ignore that. Hunger was something he was very used to after all.

He mentally regarded his progress. He was probably around the skill level of a fifth or sixth year student when it came to combat, but was a bit below fourth year when it came to the academic side.

His lazing off with Ron hadn't helped him at all. He did need to start practicing more magic, only recalling a few spells that didn't have anything to do with combat, which was pretty horrible.

He could recall them when he was fighting, his mind working perfectly in moments like those, but not in leisure. He knew that Hermione knew dozens of spells, possibly even a full hundred. Most of them were probably nigh useless, but you never knew.

Her basic knowledge would get her farther in life than him though, since fighting wasn't really a job, unless you counted official dueling. Something he wasn't really eager to do.

'Try and gain better proficiency with defensive mental magic by first task. Improve body as much as possible. Review every single spell taught in class that I may have learned at one point.'

He mentally made a list of the things he would need to do. There was no way to really improve in a way that mattered by the time of the first task. He didn't know what it was, so he couldn't afford to hyperfocus something and then get screwed.

Going over spells he may have performed at one point would be to his best benefit. His magic would remember the spells, having cast them before. This meant that it would take less time than learning a whole new spell.

"Food be ready! All three meals!" His thoughts wavered as Dobby popped back into the room excitedly, magically carrying a few trays in the air.

The smell of the food hit him, and despite the sheer quantity of it, he knew the black hole in his stomach would only be somewhat satisfied by it.

* * *

**Six Days Later**

"Accio pillow." He spoke clear and precise, focusing his entire being on the pillow he wanted to summon, and was granted his wish.

Sixty-one spells. That was how much he knew. Almost all of them prank spells and useless charms. Even after writing them all down, he could scarcely remember most of them. It was frustrating.

He didn't understand how Hermione did it so seamlessly. He could cast them all somewhat decently, but they took to much time and effort to even be worth it in a combat scenario. Making someone's nose run and get a cold could be useful, but a simple finite would destroy that anyway.

"Accio quill."

Might as well try and disarm them if you can hit them with a spell like that. His skills in transfiguration were the same as ever, not all that good. Decent, but nothing special.

He couldn't recall enough details to make it amazing, and his animation charms lacked the sophistication and smooth movements needed to be useful. He only had 12 days left. His mental magic had been going along much better now, but that was with supreme effort.

The most promising aspect was his body though. He had always been bemused about his body before. The average of his peers stood at least around 5' 5", but he was stuck at around 5' 1". Smaller than the average girl.

"Accio book."

Despite the pain and constant eating he had to suffer through, his body had shown more promise than his magic so far. He had shot up a single inch so far, but even that had put him just a teeny bit taller than the average girl.

He didn't have muscles just yet, but his ribs were beginning to become hidden, his stomach filling out. His legs had gotten a bit bigger, his fingers not as boney. The constant eating was clearly doing its job.

"Accio bag."

He had completed and lit up his bonfire though, which was a massive achievement to him. Keeping it lit up still devoured most of his mental energy, but he didn't have anything to throw into it yet anyway.

He had begun making smaller fires to signify his other emotions, but they would take some time. Hopefully he could get his negative emotions done by the first task. Not being weighed down by those would definitely help.

"Accio water bottle."

He set down the water bottle that came flying at him and cast a scourgify on his glasses, getting rid of the dirt on the lenses. He swung the grey vest of his uniform over his button down shirt and tightened his tie up.

He slipped his robe on, feeling just as comfortable as it always did. The warmth at seeing his houses colors had faded though, replaced with an uncaring image.

He stepped out of his room, ready to head down to the kitchens and have his first meal. Most of the students were in class, but he knew he would have to deal with quite a few glares and sneers from students with no morning classes.

As he walked through the portrait of his house, heading towards the kitchens, the air around him was odd. The students were giving him smug smirks, proudly popping their chests out. He didn't really get why they were doing so, but it didn't take long.

The badges on their chests said, "Support Cedric Diggory - The Real Hogwarts Champion." He had no problem with that. It was the truth after all.

What it shifted into though… was what he had a problem with. "Potter Stinks!" Changing to a gaseous green, different colored clouds of it swirling around the one statement set him off like.

He tightened his fists inside his pockets, making sure no one could see his anger. He saw almost everyone wearing it, even his fellow Gryffindors. He felt heat gather in his veins, scorching hot.

He strode through the hallways, intent on getting to the sixth floor to work his anger out. It wasn't to be however, thanks to someone colliding with him as he turned a corner.

"Gah watch it you bloody magicless twit!" A pale face beneath golden blond hair sneered at him, before pausing. A familiar mocking grin lit it up instead.

"Well well well… if it isn't Potter. How's it going _buddy_?" The condescending voice, combined with one of those fucking badges on his chest caused the heat in his veins to freeze over.

"Malfoy. I would say pretty good, but bumping into you is always enough to ruin someone's day." He stood a bit shorter than Draco, but he still talked as if he taller.

Draco lost his grin pretty quickly, replaced with a strained smirk, "Haha, so funny. Almost as funny as it's going to be watching you get slaughtered in the tasks."

"Hah. The tasks aren't going to be a problem. I've survive four years with you, I doubt all that much can be worse." Harry scoffed, dawning the familiar bravado he always did when confronted by Draco.

"Tch. Posture all you want Potter. We both know you're not ready for these tasks. Seventh years have died to these tasks before. Compared to that, you're lacking." Draco thrust his chest out, tapping his badge to change its face.

Harry stared at it uncaringly, despite the thawing heat inside him, "I could always try your route and just throw enough money at it until it disappears."

"You'd run out in a day spending money like I do. House Potter hasn't seen financial movement for years. Probably nothing left." Draco chirped with a mocking grin, always glad to banter with his nemesis.

"Once you take Headship, I doubt House Malfoy will last very long either." Harry returned the mocking grin with a crooked one, getting ready for the inevitable fight.

"Oooh, it hurts, it really does. I don't think it'll hurt quite as much as this though." Harry vaguely saw Hermione appear around the corner of his eyes, carrying books.

He didn't pay all that much attention to it since it was demanded elsewhere. He threw himself to the right, avoiding the whispered spell. He quickly tucked into a roll, sending out several confundus charms in quick succession.

All his spells were blocked by a weakening protego though, providing Harry enough time to situate himself. Draco returned fire, sending whispered spells whizzing through the air, saying some louder as he didn't have a lot of mastery with them.

Harry dodged several diffindo charms, not wanting to waste his power on shielding when he didn't need to. He willingly took some color changing charms, as well as a couple tickling ones. Harry sent out several prank spells, shattering his protego. He quickly capitalized before Draco could create another one.

He sent out two expelliarmus spells, along with an easier cantis spell. Draco noticed his use of expelliarmus and willing took his cantis spell, despite not knowing what it was.

Harry grinned as Draco burst out into song, knowing that the fight was basically over now. He quickly sent out several more charms, one of them making his feet stick to the ground. Draco landed on his butt with a thump, dizzy and disoriented.

"Well, I wonder who stinks now." Harry smirked condescendingly at Draco, walking around his stuck form, coincidentally heading in the direction that Hermione was standing at.

He noticed she was giving him a disappointed and disapproving look, as she always did when he fought Draco. He couldn't find it in himself to care anymore though.

"It's not over yet!" Harry turned around quickly at the shout, feeling something whiz by his cheek.

He heard a squeak, and watched as Draco finally fell back, too dizzy to continue. He turned back around to continue walking before he stopped. Huge teeth. Abnormally huge. Continually getting bigger.

Harry watched fascinated as Hermione's two front teeth grew to ridiculous sizes, only getting bigger with each passing second.

"Eep!" Hermione yelped, trying her best to cover her teeth with tears in her eyes. She quickly ran past him, probably heading to the nurses office.

"Pfft!" Harry bit down on his lip, knowing it would be mean to laugh at the sight of a head with huge teeth wobbling as she ran past.

He shook his head, not really concerned about her considering it was just a prank spell. That, and he was still angry at her.

He walked with a new skip to step, the fire in his veins gone, replaced with a light sensation. His day had started bad, but at least it would end nicely…

* * *

"Um… hey Harry. I'm super sorry to bother you, but the teachers told me to get you and make sure it was quick and you know I can't say no to them, but I really don't want to bother you. The Weighing of The Wands is starting in like half an hour so I was told to bring you so you don't come late and…"

Harry quickly held up his hand to get Colin to stop talking, the deluge of words pouring out at such a high speed irritating him.

"What's the Weighing of The Wands?" He hadn't been told about any additional events, only the three tasks.

Colin perked up excitedly, his mouth already shivering, "It's an event where a wandmaker comes in and makes sure all the wands are in useable conditions! It's also sort of a publicity thing where a newspaper is going to interview you!"

Harry frowned at that last statement. He had no intention of being interviewed. He had been asked for interviews before, but the people had always made him too nervous. Trying to get him to talk about parents he hadn't ever known.

"Lead the way." Harry waved his hand to signal his compliance. He had to walk quickly to keep up with Colin's excited pace, but it was no real problem.

He would just say no if anyone asked for interviews. He wasn't going to do it. He didn't want more attention from people who didn't know anything about him. That had never done him well, no reason to make it worse.

* * *

Harry stepped through the door, relieved that he wasn't the last person there. He bid Colin farewell and made his way towards the four main seats. The only other person there was Viktor, and Harry made sure to stay far away from him and his intimidating stare.

He looked around and stared at all the old photograph equipment, camera crew, teachers standing around talking to each other, Ollivander and some odd blonde woman looking at him excitedly. Harry made sure he didn't look her way again.

He sat patiently with his wand in his robe pocket. He had never really cleaned it before, but it had been in water several times. He hadn't been bothered by anything on it either, so he assumed it wasn't that bad.

He didn't really care either way though. He liked the wand. Like the way it made him feel. Didn't like that it was the brother wand to Voldemort though. It just never really seemed dirty enough to care.

He allowed himself to get partially pulled into his mind, thankfully no longer needing the wand to do so now that he had a sort of stable platform to latch onto. He didn't have the necessary skill to do everything he could while fully in his mind.

The rate of creation was 1:10 when he was partially in his head, which was bothersome. It basically meant he got no work done, but it was better than sitting in this room with nothing better to do.

He was snapped out of it as the other two Champions finally showed up, meaning he could finally get out of this place and practice his magic a bit more.

"Ah! Everyone is finally here. Sit! Sit!" The blond woman sprung into action, practically dancing in excitement at finally having everyone here.

"My oh my! All of you look so fierce. So determined. I wonder what I'll find under those tense cheeks, those narrowed fiery eyes. Just what kind of story will move my pen?!" She was practically gushing in anticipation, making all four champions lean away.

"Ahem. Welcome to the Weighing of The Wands. We won't be taking up much of your time. You can get interview by Ms. Rita here and then we'll begin. Mr. Ollivander here will simply be looking at your wands for a short period of time, nothing more. Then, we'll take some photos for the paper!"

Dumbledore waved his arm in the direction of the silver haired man, sounding amused at Rita's enthusiasm.

"Yes yes! I'll be doing some interviews! Which one of you should I start with first? Harry perhaps?" She scrunched up her lips, thinking hard, "No no no. Best for last as they say."

She ignored the twitches on the other 3 Champions as she said that, quickly hurrying Cedric away into the corner of the room. Harry was just glad he wouldn't have to deny her until the end.

Time passed quickly, the other Cedric and Fleur both coming back with red cheeks and angry scowls. He didn't want to know what Viktor would look like when he was actually angry, so he looked the other way.

"Harry Potter! I've always wanted an interview with you! I can't believe this day has finally come!" A big grin marred her pasty white face, those dark green eyes looking almost venomous.

Harry's heart beat incredibly fast, sending little tingles down his arms and making his chest tight. He really hated making spectacles. Really really hated doing it.

_To embrace this sort of magic, you need a certain mindset. Someone without this mindset trying to achieve these feats will crumble. This is not for the faint of heart. Many would call these actions evil, as they are._

_You must be firm, unyielding, nigh uncaring. You have to get into the mindset of doing what you want, when you want, how you want, no matter the consequences. One of the few first women I seduced were a mother and daughter._

_The mother was married to a Lord, someone with vastly more influence and power than I did. I fucked them both, made them addicted to me, and he found out. He confronted me in a rage, nearly killing me for the words I spoke haughtily to him._

"_I fucked your wife, then I bent your daughter over her exhausted form and fucked her too! Might as well give up on her, I doubt she'll feel a thing from your small pecker anymore." _

_I said those words in arrogance, feeling all powerful. I knew the consequences, knew that death likely wouldn't be far behind. But just the feeling of saying those words, of acting how I wanted, regardless of consequences. _

_I was beat nearly to death, and the Lord told his wife and daughter that he would have me and them hanged. They beat him to death at the mere thought of me being killed. _

_I was always afraid. Afraid of telling my parents, my family what I thought, what I feared. I ran. I was afraid of talking to women, not wanting to deal with their rejection. I used magic to practically enslave them. _

_Doing something directly, with no worries or cares about what will happen, is the greatest bliss. It is a _requirement _to truly mastering these sexual arts. You must adopt a mindset similar to this. You must become _free_. For within _freedom_, lies _slavery_. _

"I'm not in the mood for an interview." He spoke those few words concisely, not stumbling or stuttering at all.

The silence that followed should have been nerve wracking, and yet… he felt like smiling. He had said no to people before, denied requests, even rebelled. They didn't feel like they counted though.

Every time he said no to someone, he would feel guilty. Denying someone what they asked of him made him nervous, not wanting them to get angry like he knew the Dursleys would. He rebelled for other people, not in his own interests.

Denying someone something they wanted of him, not feeling guilty, not even feeling all that nervous. It felt good. It felt enlightening.

'Why should I care about what she wants? The only thing that matters is what _I _want.' Harry stared into her suddenly cold green eyes with his own green uncaring ones.

"I'm sorry… what?" Her smile went from excited to sickly, looking almost malicious. Her eyes narrowed more than a bit, her gaze intense.

"I don't feel like doing an interview. We can move onto the wand weighing now." He leaned back into his wooden chair, feeling oddly comfortable.

"Now now my boy. The interview will be quick." Dumbledore quickly attempted to disarm the tension building in the room.

"I don't care if it'll be quick. I don't want it to happen at all." Harry fought to keep his face straight, a grin struggling to make itself known.

"I'm quite ready to do the Wand Weighing." Ollivander spoke up amusedly, a little smirk lighting up on his dull face. Those silver eyes glowing with laughter.

"Mhm. Yes, probably for the best." Maxime cut in, looking just as awkward as the rest did.

Harry kept his eyes on Rita though, wanting her to break off eye contact first. Her angry gaze was actually making him feel excited. He was actually beginning to get horny from the tense atmosphere.

"Excellent! Making sure your wands are in fighting condition is incredibly important! They will be your only tools in your perilous tasks after all!" The stocky form of Ludo Bagman, his blonde hair covering his sweaty forehead, broke the tension of the room.

The five judges along with Ollivander stepped behind a large conjured desk. Ollivander stayed standing, while the others sat. Rita reluctantly stepped into the back of the room alongside the camera crew, breaking eye contact with Harry.

Harry finally let a small smirk come on his face. His fingers began twitching with his pent up energy, eager to do something, anything. He was also beginning to feel hungry.

"Fleur Delacour." Maxime's booming voice called out to her Champion, gladly volunteering her to go first.

Fleur Delacour. Harry let his eyes linger on her for but a second as she sat up, not wanting to get caught. Silver blond hair, shining as if the sun was but a foot away from her. Glowing pale skin, glowing with health, flushing red in several places.

An aristocratic face, containing dark blue slightly narrowed eyes high cheekbones, a small button nose, thick red cupid bow lips, combined with a decently sharp jawline. Practically perfection. Her face was almost enough to distract you from her body, but Harry doubted anything could do that.

Her robes covered everything, but just the outline of it was enough. She was thin, but in a thick sort of way. Her chest was large enough to cause her robe to strain. Her waist was skinny, making the flare of her hips look all the more prominent. Her bottom was the real treasure.

It was incredibly shapely, even through the robes. Plump and heart shaped. It, combined with her allure, was enough to ensure that only those with the highest will could resist looking. Someone like him.

"Hmm. Approximately 9 ½ inches. Straight with a rounded handle, inflexible. Made of Rosewood with a… Veela hair as a core? Cleaned and polished regularly. Very good." Ollivander swished the wand, making flowers burst out.

"Mmm. Volatile, and not something I would use in my wand. Works good though." Ollivander ignored the sudden tightening in Fleurs face, handing her wand back.

"Cedric Diggory." Cedric quickly straightened up, unable to resist looking at Fleur as she passed him.

"Hmm. Approximately 12 ¼ inches. Straight, pleasantly springy. Made of Ash with a Unicorn tail hair core. I remember this one clearly. Cleaned and polished a bit too much. Good." Harry didn't pay attention to what he did with the wand, waiting for his turn.

He faintly heard, "Grigorovich! Incredible! Approximately 10 ¼ inches. Curved, rigid. Made of Hornbeam wood with a dragon heartstring core. Cleaned and polished regularly. Okay."

Harry straightened up, no longer leaning against his chair as he watched Viktors intimidating form make its way back.

"Harry Potter."

Harry got up slowly, not feeling like he needed to rush anywhere. He knew Ollivander wouldn't be too happy with his wand. He had been annoyed that it had been cleaned too much. He wondered what he would think when he saw something that was almost never cleaned.

He handed his wand over and could already see Ollivanders eyes narrowing in annoyance, "Approximately 11 inches. Straight, nice and supple. Made of Holly with a Phoenix feather core. Seems like it has not been cleaned or polished in quite a while."

Ollivander swished his wand before his hand tightened in pain. "An incredibly loyal and powerful wand. Won't even allow me to cast a single spell through it. I suppose that can only be expected from the brother wand of Voldemort's."

Harry's lips thinned at the mention of Voldemort, several people flinching in terror at the name. He hated the fact that he and Voldemort had sibling wands. He refused to get rid of his own so unless he got rid of Voldemort's, there was nothing he could do about it.

"Excellent. Picture time!" Bagman shouted out, still slightly shivering in fear at the name drop. Harry closed his eyes with a silent groan. He liked the terrified silence more.

* * *

**Eight Days Later**

'Disapproval, Remorse, Apprehension, Pensiveness, Fear, Sadness, Terror, Grief.' He mentally labeled the smaller campfires around him.

He had only been able to create 8 campfires in the eight days he had, which was pretty good considering his speed just a few days before. He would probably be able to get a few more in the four days he had until the first task, but these would be important.

He went through the process of linking those specific emotions to their campfires. Disapproval, for the path he was going down. He watched as the campfire lit up, sticks of wood quickly appearing inside of fire, signifying his level of disapproval.

Remorse, for the horrible things he was about to do. Apprehension, for the tournament and his future actions. Pensiveness, for his thoughts of stopping. Fear, for the possibility of being caught, maybe dying to the tasks. Sadness, for the friends that he wasn't sure he wanted back.

Terror, for the threat of Voldemort and the tasks. Grief, for the loss of his family, for the loss of friends, for the betrayal.

He watched as each of them lit up, feeling every single one welling up inside of him now that he acknowledged them. He mentally commanded all the sticks to rise, watching as they slowly floated upwards.

He tossed them into the bonfire with hazy eyes, watching them slowly become ash, his chest lightening, the feelings raging inside of him gone. It left him blissfully empty besides the handful of other, lesser, emotions he felt.

He stared with determined eyes, positive that he was doing the right thing. He wasn't unsure anymore. The path he was going down was the one he was going to walk. Regardless of others thoughts.

He would win the tournament. That would get him popular again, he was sure of it. With his popularity restored… it created more opportunities to get close to girls. Gloria putridis. The name of the spell that would begin his vile acts.

It fit, Corrupting Touch.

* * *

**Four Days Later**

Harry slowly walked towards the Champions tent where the first task would be explained. He could hear the yelps of a huge creature, though he wasn't sure what it was. The stadium was large enough that he couldn't see it, so maybe it wasn't all that bad.

He reflected over all the changes that had occurred since he first became a champion. Almost a full month, and he had already noticed very nice improvements to his body. He still only stood at 5' 4", but the growth rate was incredibly promising.

He was positive he would be over 6' by the time the 4 months were over. All the food he had been consuming had really shown, making his body become stocky. He had never had a flab of fat on his stomach before, so it was interesting to experience.

He was eagerly awaiting the two month line, where his body would begin using that fat and converting it to muscle. His arms and chest had already begun to show some definition, but it was only a little amount.

His penis had grown a couple centimeters in length, and increased in girth, which was awesome. He didn't really know what the average penis size was, but he was happy nonetheless. None of the hair on his body besides the top of his head had any hair though.

Cleaning his bed of his hairs wasn't really his way of starting the morning, but thankfully magic made that easier. Besides that, his glasses had begun to get a bit blurry as his eyesight had gotten better.

He hadn't known that was an effect, since it didn't state it anywhere in the book. His ancestor had perfect eyesight though, so he guessed he hadn't been affected by it like he had.

His mental magic was his greatest improvement though. Not only could he interact with the campfires without going into his mind fully, he had even managed to build a few more of them.

Determination, Aggressiveness, Dominance, Vigilance, and Optimism. Now, he could transfer sticks of his other emotions into those. He hadn't know why the second and third was so important to his ancestor, but decided they couldn't hurt.

His regular magic was getting much better. His skill in imagination and memory recall was getting much better now that he could get rid of distractions like his negative emotions. He hadn't focused on learning any new spells, merely focusing on getting better with his existing ones.

His persistence with it had shown through though. He could speak most of his spells with but a whisper, barely concentrating. It had taken many days. He had even had to deny Hagrid's attempt to hang out. He had felt pretty bad about that before he washed it away.

He walked through the flap of the tent, seeing the other competitors pacing as Bagman sat there excitedly, a sack in his hand. The moment he walked in, the other Champions looked at him.

Fleur had a calm face, yet full of apprehension. Viktors face was set like stone, the only sign of worry was the crease of his eyebrows. Cedric was full on panic though, his lips twisting in fear.

"Ah! There's the final Champion! Looking good Harry!" With a boisterous grin and an excited shout, it almost didn't feel oppressive in the tent.

Harry kept his face straight as he regarded his competition. He had no idea what the first task was, but he was determined to win it. He felt his body tighten in anticipation, the sticks in his fires quickly gathering.

"Alright! The first task is upon us! You may be wondering what it is. And i'll tell you. But first… you gotta reach into my bag. Ladies First!" Bagman grinned flirtatiously at Fleur, only getting a look of contempt for her.

Harry watched as she swayed towards the bag, already feeling his tension draining away. Nothing could remain worried when it had his view.

"A Common Welsh Green! Lucky pick Ms. Delacour! Number 2!" A fucking dragon. Why was a miniature fucking dragon in Fleur's hands?!

Harry quickly dumped every emotion that wouldn't help him into the ones that would. He rapidly felt himself calm, feeling incredibly confident.

"Mister Diggory, if you would!" A shaking Cedric passed by a calm Fleur. A pale, calm Fleur, but calm nonetheless.

It set off Harry immediately. His calm was unnatural, forced. Hers was a steely resolve, born from foreknowledge.

"A Swedish Short Snout hmm! Number 1!" Cedric shakily held the miniature dragon, watching as it struggle to get free from his hands.

"Mister Krum!" Viktor walked with purpose, no longer looking afraid. The slight shake in his fingers gave him away though, especially to Harry's extra vigilant eye.

"Chinese Fireball! Probably the smallest one of the lot. Number 3!" Viktor calmly palmed his dragon, quickly sitting and plotting.

"Harry Potter." Bagman looked at him sadly, looking incredibly disappointed. Not in Harry, but for Harry. For some reason.

Harry calmly strode up towards the bag, his unnatural confidence drawing the other Champions eyes. Harry put his arm into the bag, snatching up the squirming dragon with a quick hand.

"Hungarian Horntail. Number 4." Bagman practically whispered the name, sending fear shooting down his spine.

"The most dangerous of the lot by far. Very tough luck. Welp!" Bagman quickly perked up and Harry took the small pause to resort his emotions once more.

"Your goal is to retrieve the Golden Egg. Nothing more, nothing less. There will indeed be a dragon guarding it, but you are not required to fight it, merely get the egg. You'll go out according to the orders of your number. You have 10 minutes to prepare yourselves accordingly. You will be judged based on your performance."

Bagman quickly made his way out, though he gave Harry an imploring stare. Harry twitched under his gaze, not sure why he was so interested in him.

"Did you all know?" Harry barely heard Cedric's whispered question as he sat down on the couch next to Fleur.

"About the dragons? Yes, my headmaster told me." Viktors heavy accent cut through the suddenly tense room, making Cedric stiffen.

"Mine as well." Fleurs voice was no less accented, but contained much less strength withing it. It only made Cedric seem angrier.

"Nope." My answer came out in a bored type of way, mostly because I was busy coming up with several plans. Not knowing the terrain of the task was hindering that a bit though.

"'Nope'? Are you really going to sit there all calm and act like you didn't know?!" He had never seen Cedric angry before, but he couldn't say he was impressed.

He didn't know whether it was the dominance and aggressiveness roaring inside of him, or a general lack of fear, but he coudn't even begin to feel intimidated by the fair skinned boys snarl.

"It's just a dragon. We don't even have to fight it." My condescending words only seemed to set him off more, but I ws too busy shoveling sticks into different campfires to pay attention.

"Hmm. What's your plan?" Fleurs velvety, quiet voice seemed to almost whisper into my ear. The smell of jasmine nearly clogged my senses. I knew she was just trying to get an edge over me, but it didn't really matter one way or the other.

"Don't have one. I don't know the terrain of the place, so there's no point in really making one at the moment." My blunt answer caught her off guard, but it helped me figure something out.

Fleur seemed to have a plan, as did Viktor. Cedric was busy trying to calm down. The first two had a plan. Not knowing the terrain, making a plan with it was faulty. That meant they were going to do something to the dragon.

He was positive that the judges would give higher ratings for the more elaborate and skilled performances. That meant he would have to do whatever he was planning perfectly if he intended to win. He didn't have anything super skillful besides his Patronus, nor anything super elaborate.

"Cedric Diggory! You're up!" Bagman burst into the tent, waking Cedric up from his panicked trance. It only made it worse though, Cedric practically exploding with nerves.

It was understandable though, considering he was going to be face to face with a dragon. One of the deadliest creatures in the world. Without a single hour of planning time. He was probably fucked and he knew it.

His fear would prevent him from recalling the best option, make him panic and mess up. Harry knew that feeling well. He leaned back into the couch further, sighing in comfort. Putting all his focus into manipulating his emotions was tiring work.

* * *

"Harry! You're up!" Harry's dazzling green eyes snapped open, showing no fear or apprehension, looking almost angry and bored.

His negative emotions had been building up so much that he had been forced to pile it up into his aggression and dominance, the others getting almost too full.

"Now listen closely Harry. The Hungarian is one of the most aggressive dragons. It will try to crush you under its limbs, try to take bites out of you. It doesn't bother with fire much unless you hide from it a lot.

Just try to confuse it, get the egg and get out. That'll give you the best chance of completing your task. Aim for at least second or third. Krum did pretty well, but he fucked a bit. Fleur wasn't as impressive, but she got the egg. Cedric participated. Just do better than him! Good luck!

Bagman quickly pushed him into the tunnel leading to the stadium, giving him pretty decent advice. He wasn't sure why he was helping him, just hoped he didn't try to ask him for something in return.

"Potter Stinks!"

"Potter Stinks!"

"Potter Stinks!"

"Potter Stinks!"

Harry felt his nose twitch, the roars of the crowd riling him nice and good. Fuck second or third, he was going to get first for sure.

He took notice of all the moss covered rocks, several boulders and hiding spots quickly outlining themselves. Several spell came to mind that would become distractions, hiding wouldn't be all the hard.

"And the fourth and final competitor! Harry Potter!" His name was announced with a lot of pizzas, only getting boos.

Harry ignored it all though, knowing that the task had started the moment he stepping into the stadium. The sound drowned from the world, only the rough growls and breathing of the incredible creature on the opposite side of him drifting through his ears.

It was huge, easily as big as the basilisk he had fought in his second year, but not as long. It had a chain around its neck, thick with runes. Its golden eyes stared balefully at him, as if to blame him for its current situation.

A bunch of eggs laid left to it, all of them surrounding a bigger, golden, egg. Harry spotted several tunnels in the ground that he could use to get right next to them.

"Fumos duo." Harry aimed his wand to the right of the Horntail, shooting out thick black red smoke out of the tip of his wand. He poured a ton of power into it, cause it to cover the entire right side of the stadium and, coincidentally, the tunnels under it.

The Horntail quickly took action once he disappeared inside of the smoke, staying sort of close to its eggs, but smashing its tail and jaws all around. Harry had jumped into the tunnel though, avoiding its rage.

"RAAAGH!" The vibrations from the guttural roar shook the entire stadium, making several students cover their ears in pain.

"Feteo." Harry cast a prank smell, making the entire area smell like rotten eggs and dirty feet. That would keep the dragons powerful nose from smelling him. The roars he heard clearly signified its rage at the smell, as well as the shaking rocks above him.

"Rrrrr." The deep growls would have made the hair on Harry's body raise, if he had any.

"Fortis Sensus." Harry quickly pinched his nose and cast the supersensory charm. He could now see, if barely, through the smoke. The smell was nearly debilitating though.

Harry cast the smokescreen spell once more, feeling his magic drain to around ¾ already from overpowering the spell so much. He quickly made his ways through the tunnels, ignoring the dragon.

He finally came upon the outcropping where the eggs were held. He could barely see the golden egg, covered in thick smoke, right next to the rampaging dragon, but his supersensory charm allowed him to see the supernatural glint of it.

"Waddiwasi." Harry quickly imagined gum shooting out of his wand, making sure that a piece of it was stuck to his wand upon exit.

He fired it at the egg, successfully hitting it. The gum was basically at a hair's width now though, and wouldn't be able to pull itself and the egg back in.

"Duro." He cast the hardening charm on it, making it hard as stone. Unable to bend it or call it back now, he quickly ran back into the tunnel, making sure he was far enough so the egg would be securely inside of the tunnel. Once the egg was resting at the edge of the tunnel, he cast a finite on both spells, leaving just the egg.

Harry quickly grabbed it, and walked out into the thinning smoke, making sure he looked as calm and unbothered as possible. He ignored the dragon rampaging in the smoke behind him, feeling the heat of the flames it was spewing.

He walked slowly to the exit, since he knew he had to see the nurse. It was mandatory for an even like this. He wouldn't get his score for a while anyway.

As he walked through the tunnel out of the stadium, hearing the confused voices following him, he couldn't help but grin. He had meant what he said to Cedric. They didn't need to fight the dragon, just get the egg. Even a few slightly useful spells and some prank spells could get the job done. You just had to be smart and calm about it.

* * *

**Most of the trouble that the competitors had during that challenge was their fear. Fleur easily breezed past the first trial, putting it to sleep and taking the egg, only getting a bit of fire on her due to the dragon snoring. Even Krum didn't have that much trouble and he attacked it. Cedric just distracted it with transfiguration. It had been meant to show off the danger they would face, but it was pretty underwhelming. Harry had been the one in the most danger, mostly because he decided to try and out fly a fucking dragon. Badass, but not at all smart. Unable to see or smell anything, it wouldn't be hard to yoink it, even with a prank spell and a lower level charm. I personally found most of the tasks pretty underwhelming, especially since they were designed for seventh years. The third task was probably the best, actually pushing Harry further than he could go. Canon Harry. With creativity, it isn't hard to get through these tasks, even if they don't know about it beforehand. The only one you really have to prepare for is the second one, and only because it's underwater. The porn aspect of this may not happen for a little bit longer, but once it happens, it'll really pick up speed, consuming most of the story probably.**


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